|
Whenever I come back |
|
The air on railroad |
|
Is making the same sounds |
|
And the shop fronts on Holly |
|
Are dirty words Asterisks in for the vowels |
|
And we peered through the windows |
|
New bottoms on barstools |
|
The people remain the same |
|
With prices inflating, inflating |
|
As if saved from the gallows |
|
There's a bellow of buzzers |
|
And people stop working |
|
And they're all so excited, excited |
|
Passing through unconscious states |
|
When I awoke I was on the high-way |
|
High-way, high-way, high-way |
|
With your hands on my shoulders |
|
A meaningless movement |
|
A movie script ending |
|
And the patrons are leaving, leaving |
|
Passing through unconscious states |
|
When I awoke I was on the high-way |
|
High-way, high-way, high-way |
|
High-way, high-way, high-way, high-way |
|
And now we all know the words were true |
|
In the sappiest songs, yes, yes |
|
And I'll put them to bed, but they won't sleep |
|
Just shuffling the sheets, to toss and turn |
|
You can't begin to get it back |
|
Passing through unconscious states |
|
When I awoke I was on |
|
The onset of a later stage |
|
The headlights are beacons on the high-way |
|
High-way, high-way, high-way |
|
High-way, high-way, high-way, high-way |
